


Kingdom Come

by leontopithecusrosalia



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Family, Fantasy, Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 20:55:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1955838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leontopithecusrosalia/pseuds/leontopithecusrosalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You didn’t honestly think you were alone, did you?”<br/>Most queens don’t have to deal with shifting, unreliable powers, an exuberant council of rock trolls, a powerful band of visiting elementalists, and, to top it all off, a dangerous enemy who could be the biggest threat a kingdom has ever seen. Then again, Elsa isn’t exactly most queens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kingdom Come

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ravenwolf24](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ravenwolf24).



> Disclaimer: No, I do not own Frozen, nor have I ever possessed something so spectacular. If I did, I probably would have included pegasi somehow because... flying horses!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rock trolls and Elsa make a plan.

The thing about legends that many forget is that at a time, they were real. They were not simple children’s tales deeply rooted in the back of our minds for as long as we can remember. Heroes existed. So did villains. And they clashed. There were fiery battles and tumbles from cliffs. A necklace could hold a secret, ancient power, and horses could fly. Usually, the world found its way into terrible danger, some way or another, and it was up to a band of reluctant, unlikely individuals to make things right. But perhaps the most intriguing thing about legends is that you never know when the next one begins.

 

* * *

 

 

Being the beloved monarch of a fairly decent kingdom wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. For starters, the definition of privacy was lost to your subjects. They would analyze your every move, trying to find some motive that simply wasn’t there. If you switched from eating white bread to wheat bread, everyone would know, and several people would very much like to be informed of why your dietary habits have changed. If there was any problem, it was always unquestionably your fault. We’re low on fish! The Queen must be angry with the seaside kingdom of the Southern Isles. Why don’t we have cobblestone streets everywhere? What’s with all the dirt? Our monarch probably doesn’t even notice; she spends so much time in the castle. And Heaven forbid the wildflowers start wilting, or everyone will simply assume that you’ve spent all the money that was traditionally used for forestry on an impressive new military headquarters that you won’t even need, because your kingdom is incredibly peaceful and no one would ever consider attacking it.

You could never really escape the public eye; it was a constant shadow over your shoulder, a hidden weight that you eventually grew used to and learned to live with. There were countless rules and proper gestures of etiquette to memorize, and if you forgot just one of them, the visiting Archduke would be sure to remember it and certainly tell the rest of the nobles. You rarely had the time to leave the castle, and when you did, you were swarmed by adoring villagers, given presents by eager merchants hoping to advertise their goods, and forced to be accompanied by a ridiculous assembly of guards, who were stereotypically tall, muscular, and stoic, with only a few exceptions.

There were hardly any perks to being Queen other than a very nice house, plenty of food, and an oversized library. However, Queen Elsa of Arendelle had to admit that meeting with the exuberant Rock Troll Council was certainly interesting, at the very least.

Elsa was positioned at the head of a long dark, wooden table draped in a rich blue cloth, poised in the sophisticated elegance that had now become expected of her, listening with mild attentiveness as one of the rock trolls babbled about adding rare meats--gila, oryx, and jackalope--from Arona to the menu at the local bar.

“I mean, just _imagine_ it for a moment,” the rock troll, Oyvin, exclaimed. “So you walk into the bar, climb onto a stool, and order a _jackalope_. Complete with fresh, spicy meat and a pair of horns you get to keep as a trophy.”

Elsa bit her lip, barely suppressing a smile as her eyes twinkled in amusement. It was Oyvin’s first day on the Rock Troll Council, and he’d taken it very seriously, having brought in a lengthy scroll listing everything that absolutely positively needed to happen, or else Arendelle would become bankrupt, the villagers would move to the north to grow potatoes and never return, and then the kingdom would be promptly consumed by a freak tsunami, and everyone would forget that such a great civilization even existed, despite the fact that Arendelle was very far inland.

“As interesting as that sounds, Oyvin, I hardly think this is the time to be discussing exotic meats,” Oyvin’s mom, Dorrit, prompted gently. “We need to re-establish relationships with foreign nations before we expect them to be carting rare protein all the way up here.” Oyvin sunk into his seat, a seemingly impossible feat considering that he was small and squat, and had already been bent quite low in order to read from his scroll. His eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of frustration and disappointment, until Elsa heard Dorrit whisper, “Though jackalope does sound very nice, dear.” He perked up again.

“Dorrit makes a good point,” said Ero, one of the oldest rock trolls present. “Pardon me, but once you, Queen Elsa, accidentally shot Princess Anna’s head with ice, your parents closed almost all international relations, except with the Southern Isles and Weaseltown. Now, seeing as those connections have been recently severed, we’ll have to find new trade partners and allies.”

Elsa’s back became slightly more rigid as she recalled her parents separating herself and her sister, closing the castle gates, and leaving her to spend most of her time locked away, all because of one unlucky shot. She felt like she had much better control of her power than she did back when she was eight, but it only took one slip up, and then she’d be ostracized, refigured as a monster and unexceptionally feared by the people she was supposed to rule. Elsa blinked her thoughts away, looking back at the rock trolls, who all seemed to be glancing at her expectantly, looks of excited anticipation on their faces. Elsa took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, what was the question?” she asked hesitantly, squeaking a bit as she watched the trolls’ expressions drop, as if she’d just decided to walk in and pop all of their brand new balloons at once.

“We need to find a positive way to contact all the other kingdoms,” Dorrit started, “Perhaps even the Southern Isles and Weaseltown.”

“That way we’ll have no trouble importing the jackalope meat,” said Oyvin.

Ero coughed. “Among other things,” he added.

“It should be something fun,” said Leiva, a particularly excitable member of the Rock Troll Council who often tried to sway Elsa into agreeing to improve the textile systems of Arendelle. She smiled dreamily, closing her eyes and clasping her hands on her right cheek, as if imagining something very delightful.

“Something that shows all the other kingdoms what Arendelle can do,” Dorrit added excitedly. “That we’re serious, and back on the map.”

“There has to be a ton of food,” Oyvin pushed. “You should encourage each kingdom to bring their own native cuisine, especially Arona.”

Dorrit nudged him gently. “Not yet, son,” she muttered. Elsa started to get the sense that this was rehearsed.

“An event that really demonstrates Arendelle’s rich culture,” Ero said. “Something artistic and tasteful--”

“Yes, definitely tasteful!” Oyvin interjected, nodding excitedly.

Ero took a deep huff and continued, while most of the other trolls--there were ten present--cast Oyvin humored looks. “What do you think, Queen Elsa?”

Elsa felt like she had been practically spoon-fed the answer. Something that was fun, ambitious, cultural, tasteful, and positively contacted all the kingdoms. She knew that there was only one adequate response, that the process of asking this question had been strenuously rehearsed, but watching the trolls hunch over the table, eyes wide, mouths slightly agape as they breathlessly waited for her to speak was incredibly amusing. Finally, after Oyvin took several deep, loud inhales of precious air and resumed staring at her in anticipation, Elsa spoke.

“I propose a ball,” she said. The trolls didn’t need to hear anything more; they cheered loudly, raising their stony arms with surprising speed as Oyvin whooped and pounded his chest. Elsa laughed, when suddenly there was a loud thump outside the door. All noise ceased, and Elsa nodded at one of the guards, Rejor, and slightly tilted her head toward the plank of wood that divided the council room from the rest of the castle, smiling brightly, still laughing with her eyes. She started speaking as soon as the door creaked open, without even bothering to turn around.

“You know you can come in if you want, Anna,” she said.

“But council meetings are usually so _dull_ ,” Anna answered guiltily, stepping in. Elsa cocked an eyebrow, turning her chair around so she could face her sister. “I just heard about the rock trolls’ plan and decided to listen in.”

Elsa nodded skeptically and the embarrassment washed away from Anna’s face. “So is it true then? We’re having a _ball_?” Elsa smiled, and Anna immediately cheered, raising her arms enthusiastically.

“I’ll plan it,” she said, immediately pulling from her pocket a scroll that she’d conveniently kept handy. She took a quill pen from the table and began scribbling exuberantly. “What should the colors be? I’m thinking ice blue and bronze.”

“We should play Vivaldi,” Ero added quickly, humming _Winter_ not-so-subtly.

“Make sure you leave room for plenty of buffet tables,” Oyvin suggested.

“But the point of a ball is to _dance_ , Oyvin,” Leiva said. “Who are you going to invite, anyway?” she asked Anna skeptically. Anna gave her a big, slightly crazy grin.

“Everyone.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is leontopithecusrosalia, and thank you SO MUCH for reading the first chapter of "Kingdom Come." Or, if you just happened to skip down to this because you're a fickle person who doesn't like to do things in order, well, then thank you for still reading this, I suppose. 
> 
> Anyway, we all know how well the last celebratory ball went, so how do you guys think this one will go? Any faces you are hoping to show up? Yes, Flynn and Rapunzel count, but I'm making no promises *maniacal laughter*. 
> 
> I'm currently participating in Camp Nanowrimo, and right now I have about an eighth of this story done--I didn't realize I'd end up making it so long!--so I'm usually about three chapters ahead of the one I've most recently posted. Just in case you're wondering. I'm not going to update until the end of this month, however, just to give myself plenty of breathing room. This is just a teaser for what's ahead. Once I'm finished with Camp, expect the updates to be much more regular. 
> 
> I will close with this question: what is your opinion on jackalope?


End file.
